Take One For The Team
by RebelDoughnut
Summary: She could do that right? It was really for the good of the initiates' sanity, not to mention her own. And it had been a while since Zenia did any charity work. What's a harmless taste among bitter enemies? Yeah, charity... Zenia and Eric are both erudites-in-dauntless-clothing, too alike to not end up cosmically aligned for better or worse, though worse seems to be predominate.
1. Chapter 1

Hello interwebs! This is my first written story, though I've long ago lost count of the wonderful ones I've read hopefully by some of the people reading this right now. You guys finally inspired me to put some of my ideas down on electronic paper and put it out there.

Just a heads up, I like the sex. It's probably an addiction at this point but it's my head and like it that way. It will be in the vast majority of my stories, if not all of them. As the great authors say "Rated M for a reason!" This means if you don't want to see that, you need to right now hurry up and click away! Shield your eyes from the heathen smut that follows these words! Go! Flee!

Whew. Okay, now that we're all adults here, its smexy Eric loving time! That's right! Buckle up, because poor celibate Eric is gettin' some! ;)

I'd like to say that I live on reviews, but most of the time, a story is gonna spill out of my head one way or another so reviews and ratings are merely acceleration tools to get you the chapters quicker. I also have a problem with follow through so the more I feel like someone but me cares about the ending, the more likely it'll be that I actually give the stupid story an ending. Otherwise. We'll all just be spinning off into the bittersweet abyss of what could have been…

Story!

Story now!

Also, I only own Eric in my head. In the real world he unfortunately belongs to another. Sigh…

| Chapter 1 |

"Ah, Eric! God, yes!" She gasped. Feeling him moving again down between her sprawling thighs. Water hissed in her ear and the steam in the shower wafted to the ceiling as her head tilted back at the sensation. Fingers or tongue or whatever bit of his heavenly body sweeping everywhere she needed were sending her closer to that familiar end.

"Mmmmm" she moaned again the movements becoming feverish, she could just see the face he was making at her sounds. And increasingly erratic movements too probably. Smirks and yet that lusty prideful, deep look men got in their eyes when something was turning them on compulsively. She didn't scream when everything finally broke over her, like she was sure he would have wanted her to. He was dark and deep and passionate and uninhibited displays of those feelings were irresistible to him. It was just that Mrs. Terrance had just gotten away from the dreadful stares and under breath tsks the last time Zenia's Eric-loving had gotten a little too boisterous. Her contented hitch and long exhale of relief would have to do for now. Groggily opening her eyes as the shower cooled, she was forced to deal with the fact that once again it didn't matter what he thought of her private sexy time sounds, because he'd never see it. Ever. Well, there was maybe a plan in her head to suggest a truth or dare- strip poker hybrid at their next leadership meeting to get into his pants, but barring those intergalactically insurmountable odds, her own hands in a cooling shower with a judgmental Mrs. Kessler next door would have to do. What even was that woman's job anyway? Dauntless was the faction of the brave, the proud and the sexually uninhibited. How the fuck did Zenia get saddled with the one prudish dauntless in the whole bunch as a neighbor and the yummiest enemy known to gods and men? God she could just lick straight down those neck tattoos. Straight down those bold lines until they disappeared into whatever infuriatingly covering apparel he'd chosen for the day.

Movement! Must move day must move on! She rushed the thoughts through her head to keep from repeating her earlier mistake. Because it was just that.

She'd been fighting him as long as he'd been in dauntless. Nothing really major at the beginning. He poked fun at her name (and she could admit a delicate flower was probably an odd choice for the name of a Dauntless) and she'd point out his obstinate nose every chance she got. But things just gradually escalated until it was practically a full on turf war and Max had to intervene. God that man was crafty when it came to punishments. He made them train initiates, together, for a whole year. Eric and Zenia both being from Erudite understood the complete idiocy in showing a divided leadership front to new recruits and grudgingly shut their traps about their disputes. Publicly.

Under their breath and in sneaky, strategic moves here and there, still they waged their war valiantly. There was that one time Zenia though Eric might actually end everything and finally kill her when she had told one group of clueless initiates that Four was the best combat trainer in the complex and that he'd even beaten grumpy old Eric there a few times. And would anyone like to see a live demonstration? Eric had suddenly called lunch and Zenia had been sorely disappointed that that was in fact the case. Perhaps that's why she wasn't a bloated corpse at the bottom of the chasm right now. Because god knows Four would have been up for a rematch right then and there. She giggled in a decidedly un-Dauntless fashion at the kicked puppy look Four had when he trudged after the baffled kids. After everyone'd filed out, Zenia had stayed behind to hopefully laugh her ass off and get rid of those stubborn blood spots on the mats. She'd been so lost in her thoughts or all the points in their secret war that would have given her, that she didn't register Eric had forced her up against the door to the supply closet until her knocked out breath came rushing back.

"What the hell, Eric?" was so poised on her tongue then but all that got out was an inane "whuh" before his voice overtook hers.

"Don't you ever pull up old shit like that again, you hear?" He rushed out hotly in her face.

"And smell, god, don't you even open the hygiene packs?" She'd asked staring unblinkingly into intense up-close-for-the-first-time blue-gray eyes.

"I will not have you undermining my authority with the recruits. Four isn't the leader here, I am." Had those eyes always been that intense? She never really got to see the aftermath up close before.

"Actually, co-leader sir, We're both leaders according to Max, so how about you keep THAT in mind next time you snigger about my fight brackets"

"How the hell are they supposed to learn if they're only fighting people on their skill level?" His creased forehead was somehow framing his eyes and making them sharper than they really were. That had to be it

"Because it's day fucking one Eric! That Candor transfer barely knows where to keep his thumbs during a punch let alone how to take down your super-star probably-a-psychopath protégé Darren!" She pushed him off to emphasize the last word and grabbed the tray of practice throwing knives, which promptly faltered in her hands, tossing a few noisily to the floor

"Son of a-" she hissed under her breath bending over to pick the escapees up.

"And what that stupid smile you and Four had going? Is he in on this shit now too? I swear to god I will go to Max and make sure you're on wall duty if-"

"If what?" She whirled as suddenly and gracefully and a woman toting 50 steel throwing knives in an unwieldy box could afford to be. "If I've got your precious rival wrapped around my finger doing my mischievous bidding? Jealous I don't have one of those you can mercilessly exploit?" She sauntered by him mockingly and crashed the tray down definitively in the stock room, liberating 4 or 5 rebels again.

"For fuck's sake!" She bit out and bent over to retrieve them again.

"Jesus!" When she turned around he was right in her face again. Except she didn't know to look for his face there and instead got a suddenly tantalizing eyeful of bold sweeping tattoo lines on a straining neck. That's when the licking thoughts first popped into her head. What's one taste among bitter enemies? Her half-second of distraction was lost to him as he immediately bit out

"Underestimating my ability to completely break you if I felt like it is an unwise choice, Zenia" she couldn't decide if she liked his lowered almost growling voice better or the condescending smirk his, wow, really nice lips had taken on.

"Is that supposed to be threatening?" she managed to force out evenly at him. She was so proud of herself for not purring. "Because the death threats are getting a little old, Eric" she said with just as much condescension but probably only half the sex appeal as when he'd used it. He huffed out a bitter short laugh and moved away, walking towards the door.

"This is war, Z" he threw back over his tense shoulder.

"We've been at war for five years, cowboy!" She tossed at his back. He turned back and looked her dead in the eye with that intense stare again.

"No, we haven't." He said pushing the door behind him open and finally breaking eye contact to turn around. Zenia felt the blood rush back to her knuckles as she released the side of the utility shelf. Well, just, damn.

You know you love me… ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The dreams had started pretty much that night. Unbidden of course but that didn't mean she kicked them out the door once that had gone to all the trouble to show up. It was probably that she couldn't get that damned smirk out of her head. Every time she closed her eyes, that infuriating pull at the left side of his mouth with those sharp canines peeking through rose to her mind. When did he start smirking like that? What other times did that happen and she never noticed? What would that feel like at her ear or neck? Probably softly tickling when his lips pulled and then a tiny scrape of that tooth hinting at the full set. Her hands in her pants had surprised her at first but they were vacationing there lately. She went through what she thought must be at least close to the human collective of erotic scenarios. But they all featured that smirk.

And his arms. After the declaration of war, she had started noticing infuriatingly distracting things about him all the time. Things like his glorious, pillar-like arms. They weren't overly muscled, just slightly more than average. Enough that she could tell they'd be nice and firm and stable planted beside her head or around her waist or between her legs. That smirk and those arms had brought her to the screaming precipice an alarming number of times the past six months.

As she stared at the baskets of toast in front of her, she could hear the slight dimming of the conversational roar in the pit that signaled Eric had graced them with his presence. Damn, but that boy knows how to look effortlessly edible. The maddening part was he really didn't have a gigantic variety in his wardrobe, none of them really did, he just apparently always looked that fuckable. She could feel her sanity slipping again. She needed to get laid or something or anything, because this was just not working for her mental stability.

"He needs to get laid." She was sure her mind had treacherously supplied that thought until a wry chuckle to her right made it obvious another random table member had.

"Yeah, I've heard he's been so intense with upping the training stuff that Max ordered, that he hasn't had anyone for months."

"You're shitting me! Nah, he's fucking Eric, he doesn't even have to try for that shit, the women just throw themselves at him!"

"Apparently, Max has kept him so busy, he hasn't had time to sleep let alone catch one of them."

"Damn, I'd rough up a bunch of initiates too after a dry spell that long. Hey Z, you've got a vagina, why don't you take one for the team and blow off some of Eric's steam." He chuckled like he'd made the cleverest pun in the universe so she sent him an apathetic glare and flicked him off.

Getting up to deal with her tray before the crazy giddy smiling began. She could do that right? Screw Eric's brains out for the sake of the initiates. It wasn't that crazy an idea was it? Maybe it was her sanity's swan song before it croaked entirely. He had been going abnormally hard on them lately. She practically sauntered through the open maw of the pit with fresh eyes and new determination. If he hadn't had anyone for weeks, being locked up in this place planning new training exercises, figuring out a way to make rankings more accurate, setting up new obstacle courses with those moan-inducing arms of his, he'd be desperate enough to go for her wouldn't he? Of course it wouldn't be normal hook-up, feel better, go home sex. It would have to be angry, dirty, crazy sex that made her eyes roll slightly just at the thought.

He was never good at keeping his temper, except after his little declaration of war. He'd gone into full on guerilla, erudite-in-dauntless-clothing, Operation Break Zenia mode. And she gave back as good as she got, most of the time. It was hard to be ruthless when you wanted your opponents tongue down your throat and couldn't stop imagining his fingers between your legs. It had dropped off the last couple of weeks, probably because they were both running low on ammo. Luckily for her, she knew his trigger point. Her erudite background had kept her from overusing it too, but she thought today would be an excellent time to open that Pandora's box again. With a vengeance. Eric would have been proud of the smirk her sanity made as it finally took its much needed vacation for her brain. She was going to need some special equipment for this...

_Eric_

When did her lips start shining like that exactly? Because fuck him if he knew the moment she got so damn delectable. And Zenia was nothing if not delectable. Her long luscious hair dangled all the way to brush her glorious ass when she had to redo her ponytail at least three times a day. It had gotten to the point he couldn't even watch that anymore because his resistance to the immediate hard-on that caused was too exhausting to deal with.

If he was completely honest with himself, this was really all his fault. He should have beaten Four back in his initiation training. Then Four wouldn't be such a goddamn soft spot for Zenia to find and exploit that day about six months ago. And then he wouldn't have to gotten in her face about cutting down his authority. And then he would never have known how blue her flaming eyes were or how cock-twitching those goddamn lips of hers were or that ass. He'd held himself back from grabbing her hips and grinding slowly into that perfect ass twice that day and he felt that earned him at least the sweet relief of amnesia from the event.

But apparently God wasn't in dauntless at that time of year. Or anytime since. Fuck, only six months. His sanity frayed a little more at the edges. If he was being more honest with himself, he would say that it shouldn't have even been that big a deal. He was a big boy, he could handle the occasional taunting from his rival. But that secret smile they had shared had driven him temporarily insane for reasons that became very clear that night when he finished powerfully with Zenia's name on his lips. He hated feeling jealous. And hated even more the fact that it was clearly a useless emotion in regards to her. Especially since he'd gone and done the opposite of progress into her pants by upping the ante on their little sniping battle instead of being erudite-ly level headed about the whole thing.

Damn it.

He couldn't even focus on their mutual energy outlet anymore! How the hell was he supposed to plan devious strategic moves when all he could think about was having her screaming his name up against the nearest relatively flat surface? He'd even stopped picking up one-night stands lately. Partly because Max was an even bigger hardass than he was about training recruits but also partly due to the fact that they all turned into her infuriating face when his eyes slid closed. And groaning the wrong name tends to put most people off wanting the round two that always followed thoughts of Z in his bed. Even now as she sauntered out of the dining hall his eyes focused on her toned legs. He bit down a groan at the image of those wrapped luxuriously around his thrusting hips, that long chestnut hair spread out all over his sheets. Then his grip on the sanity rope slipped again and he shut eyes, willing the erection away.

"Damn, I would hit that so hard if it didn't threaten to kill me so much" That was too loud to be one of his thoughts.

"Hell yeah. I heard she's got these power kinks. Likes it rough and dirty. Just imagine a high class rack like that-" Eric couldn't listen to the rest as he got up after one bite of tasteless toast.

He was 9000% done with today and breakfast wasn't even technically over. Maybe he could make it back to his apartment to deal with his not-so-little problem. Goddamn it, the initiates were already filtering into the training area. Putting back on his hardass mask he marched into the arena and became a little more grounded in the looks of terror on a couple of little ex-Candors. Yeah, fear, loathing and definitely no Zenia-ass-grabbing. Damn it, today was going to be fucking interminable.

PS this was supposed to be two chapters but you're welcome, I combined it. ;D


	3. Chapter 3

Forgive me, Internets, for I have delayed. It has been three weeks since my last update.

OKAY! SO, Life got complicated in a way that is distinctly unpleasant for me and probably not that interesting for you. But all is well because, YAY! Another chapter! Read up you ravenous literary fiends!

Chapter 4

He had almost decided that the chasm might not be such a bad place to go swimming by the time the training day had ended. Z had been in rare form today. Where did she even store that much manipulative energy? Goddamn it all to hell in a handbasket. Someone used to say that all the time when he was a kid. He couldn't for the life of him remember who it was. He desperately hoped he could conjured up their hopefully erection-killing face. Still no god, today. Eric should know. He'd checked in about every two seconds today.

First there had been the normal little snipes. Just harmless crap that he wouldn't have given the time of day six months ago.

But then… Then she'd upped her game after lunch.

Immediately attaching herself to Four she'd giggled and teased and smiled at him for the rest of the five fucking hours they were legally obliged to be in each other's presence. She was doing it on purpose, she had to be. There was no way that Four was that interesting. He'd seen her eye rolls at some of the shit that popped out of Four's mouth, she found him as intellectually deficient as he did. And yet there was the smiling and the banter across the training floor and, fucking goddamn it, the touching.

It was that more than anything that put him at the precarious edge of reason that he found himself swaying at now. It was just little things, Four poking her shoulder or bumping her hip as they stood by watching the initiates grapple. But then after the recruits had limped back to the dormitory, clean-up had been almost too much to handle.

Four had actually had the audacity to grab her hips from behind. Sure it was to move her out of the way so he could open a drawer in the equipment table, but jealous-rage-beast-Eric didn't know any fucking better. All it knew was another male was touching his stuff. It kept snarling "mine" at the back of his head until Four starting making sounds to leave. Relatively normal Eric had check out for the time being, probably caught up in reliving all the times Zenia had dropped something that day. The door closing behind Four snapped the brittle control that Eric had been reigning his emotions in with. They were alone. And it was time for a reackoning. Mine, it snarled again as it stalked towards her idiotically turned back.

Well, that had gone immensely better than she had hoped. Maybe after a couple of days of that Eric would be more receptive to her phase two efforts. She smirked again, realigning the throwing knives on the equipment table.

Sure, she was soaking wet from the constant barrage of simmering glares Eric sent her all day, but nothing three or four not-so-quiet times in the shower couldn't fix. Mrs. Terrance was just going to have to fucking deal with the screams. The door shut signaling Four's departure. She couldn't even be bothered to feel bad about using his little soft spot shamelessly. It was for the greater good after all. The greater good of Eric pistoning between her legs, those eyes boring into her- suddenly she was ripped around and greeted with a full on look straight at those glorious smoldering eyes.

Her eyes widened at the intenseness of that look and the inescapable there-ness of his body in her personal space. God, if he'd only lean in a fraction they could be touching and she could rub herself against something to ease the ache.

"What the actual fuck was that, Z?" His voice low and dangerous and demanding. She got her arousal under control and looked straight back into his eyes

"What are you talking about, Mr. Stick-up-his-ass-all-day?" She added an impertinent smirk just to piss him off.

"You know exactly what I'm fucking talking about. Four's about as interesting to you as a door knob. And suddenly you're best pals or something? Are you fucking him?" The question took her completely by surprise. Was that jealously she picked up in his eyes? Right there behind the rage and thinly veiled arousal.

Holy shit, that never even occurred to her as an angle.

All she wanted to do was piss him off by putting everyone's attention on Four. That's what had tipped him last time, wasn't it? Her eyes widened as she asked

"Eric… are you jealous?" He guessed it must have been a combination of the stress of the day and those damn lips of hers whispering his name that finally snapped his self-control

"Insanely." He growled before crushing her between himself and the work bench, devouring those infuriating lips. She moaned breathlessly at the contact her hands going to the back of his head to get him closer. He was lost, gone on possessing her tantalizing mouth.

Holy fuck, how had he gone this long without tasting this, her tongue willfully battling with his own. His light grinding turned deep and slow when she bit his lip and his hands snapped to her slowly undulating hips. He left her mouth for air and a taste of that soft expanse of neck below her stubborn chin. She gasped for air or ecstasy or he didn't know, everything she did seemed to make pleasure race through his extremities.

"Ah, Eric." He growled in her ear at the sound of his name again and thrust against her hard just once to punctuate it

"Oh god," she moaned, tilting her head back and letting her eyes close "what are we doing?" She had to ask, just in case there was a little bit of cold, reserved Eric sitting in there waiting to spoil the fun. Lucky for her normal Eric had taken a sick day, leaving impulsive, very aroused Eric in charge.

"I'm about to fuck you right here in this room on Four's precious equipment table. And then I'm going to drag you back to my apartment and have you until you can't remember the name of a single other male you've ever met." He growled staring straight into her eyes. He pushed her against his delicious hardness again.

"Mmmmm, yes!" She moaned again, eyes falling shut.

The only thing that made his blood race faster than her moans was the unmistakable, witches-burning-in-oil sound of some random training area door screeching open. They both tore their mouths away from each other staring wide eyed into several dark entrance points at once, assessing where the impish ruiner of all things fun could possibly have come from.

"Hey Z, are you still in here?" Four was shouted across the area, boldly adding one more intergalactically death-worthy offense to Eric's "Reasons Why Four Must Die" journal.

"Oh shit-" Z hissed out still distractingly disheveled by his kisses. _Damn straight_, the still hard part of him growled. Now she had a growing look of panic thrown in with the lust and he could feel it seeping into his brain as well.

Reflexively he sprung away from her and then everything went black.

"Z?! Are you okay?" Four shouted jogging across the training area to the store room opening.

Zenia suddenly appeared in the door way looking affronted that he would even assume the gigantic crash he'd just heard was her dying in a fiery mess.

"Pfft! Yeah? I just ya know… dropped some knives." She said nonchalantly, suspiciously holding the door mostly closed. Four used his height and tried to look over her for the real reason for whatever wasn't right here. He caught sight of some rumpled black fabric…

"What?" She snapped loud enough to make him jump. Oh god, she didn't…

"Z, you know I'm your friend and I wouldn't trust my back with anyone else on a battlefield." He began gently.

"Yeah, so?" irration was growing in her voice and he knew that was always a sign of impending meltdown, but he just had to say it…

"If you've messed up Max's limited edition stealth battle body armor again, I can't protect you this time."

"Four, I…"

"He only keeps it down here for one week out of the whole training period, and I swear to god if you've defied all mathematical probability and nicked it somehow, AGAIN"

"Four-"

"Wall duty was a bitch, Z! I won't do it again! I can't!"

"FOUR!" the haunted look in his eyes vanished at her shout.

"I seriously just dropped some knives, and not into Max's suit. What did you need by the way?"

"Oh, uh, my damn pocket has a hole in it and I think my room key's fallen out somewhere in here today."

"Oh yeah, one of the trainee's found it while they were lying on the floor in agonizing defeat. Here." She reached into her pocket and removed the antiqued piece of metal. "I completely forgot to give it to you. My bad."

"Great! Thanks! See ya later, Z." He waved as he turned around and left the training area after one last meaningful look between her and the suddenly closed door of the storeroom. God she was getting weird.

Muwahahaha! I AM AN EVIL GENIUS!


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes, the muse must be appeased and sometimes that appeasement means two updates in one day. WHAAAAATTT? I know, the universe is indeed bananas.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, you are the coolest of the cool and I owe you all giant medals of some kind.

Also, I kinda lied in the first chapter author's note, reviews are pretty cool and I may be kinda addicted to them now.

ON WITH THE LITS!

Chapter 4

_Fucking fuck Eric and his fucking fuckableness_. _FUCK!_ That had been her mantra for the past 30 minutes. Do you know how hard it is to carry a larger-than-appropriate-drinking-capacity-sized container of water across the most ruckus and rowdy faction in existence? Not damn easy! Motherfucker, free cake had a better chance of lasting five minutes in the dining hall than she had of getting this damn jug discretely back to the storeroom. It wasn't like there weren't buckets there, she just didn't think Eric would take kindly to mop water ending up on his face and in that disturbing cut marring his forehead.

She wasn't even sure what had happened at first, but that split second look at the ground in her rush to the door before Four had showed up had told her everything she needed to know. The Damn. Fucking. Knives. They HAD to be maliciously possessed how else in the MOTHERFUCKING HELL would those damn inanimate objects be clearly fucking with her head so continuously?

Apparently in his haste to get the fuck away from her and probably do utterly horrific things to Four's face, he had utterly neglected to factor into his calculations cursedly slippery pieces of metal lying forgotten on the floor. To top off the indignity, a shelf had apparently tried to break his fall in the most unhelpful way possible, gouging his left temple gruesomely. She would have and probably still will laugh hysterically when this convergence of baffling and traumatic events stop assaulting her.

_Please god, don't be brain dead_, she thought for the fiftieth time since her epic bucket quest began.

_Yeah, cuz we've got unfinished business, _that traitorous part of her brain purred.

She really must have completely lost her mind because god, she was still tingling all over from that delicious display. Even if he woke up and couldn't remember any of it, she was set up for life in alone-time fodder. Oh god, what if he did have amnesia?

Well, she wasn't going to say anything. That's all there was to it.

How would you even start a conversion like that?

"Well see Eric I literally tried to fuck your brains out. Luckily, there were some knives lying precariously prone on the floor so I only got away with like half of it. See ya tomorrow!"

Yeah, there would be zero awkward questions from that kind of starter.

Finally, the sanctity of the training room lay ahead. Please don't be dead and/or brain dead she thought one last time.

Eric was still lying pitifully on the floor. She put down the bucket, and retrieved the mobile-sized medkit she'd BORROWED from the infirmary. She carefully knelt down beside him and looked at his for once relaxed face.

Huh. It was almost adorable.

Fuck it, it was adorable.

His brows weren't furrowed and it was as close to smiling as she'd ever seen him. And by that, she really just guessed it was because he wasn't frowning. She caught herself reaching out just to touch it in wonder. She started at the cheekbones that could probably cut glass. But they just looked quiet and strong when his glare wasn't sharpening them into razor blades. And then his lips that were probably still red from her kisses. They were so deceptively soft. She shook her head. There was time for musing his boyishness later.

She knew head wounds always bled like a mother and looked much worse than they actually were but the red currently oozing from his temple was still unnerving. Not to mention the blossoming purple backdrop it was sporting. Her plan was to clean it at least a little so he didn't look so much like he'd been shot. Then, she hoped to god he would wake up enough to hobble to the infirmary. The bucket was for that phase. She used some of the sterile cotton swabs to get the blood taken care of until she could actually see the cut. Damn, that was probably going to need stitches. Of all the things Eric hated, it seemed doctor visits came first and doctor visits that involved needles was a close second. His pissy moods after visits like that only seemed to rival his pissy moods after they spent a day together.

She took out the alcohol swabs from the medkit. God only knew what kind of crap the years had crusted on that unsuspecting shelf and she wasn't taking any chances.

"Straight isopropyl for this one, soldier" she said quietly, taking a long gentle swipe across the split in his skin. Maybe the stinging-

He only remembered a momentary blackness. Like a long blink when your eyes are clearly in the mood for a sleep you can't or won't give them. But somewhere in that split second, a fucking hornet's nest must have converged on his left temple because-

"HOLY FUCK THAT STINGS!" Eric sat bolt upright and almost doubled the number of head injuries in the room. Then the dizziness hit him like a goddamn ton of bricks. For the life of him he couldn't understand why he was lying down. He had a distinct memory of standing up the last time he checked. Much as his ass clearly had earlier, the pieces began to fall into place.

Four touching Zenia.

Zenia all alone.

Eric touching Zenia.

A lot.

Orgasmically a lot

Oh god, he didn't-

He swiveled his vision straight to Z's wide eyes across the room where she was still clutching the smelly hornet cloth. Fuck his mother had to be rolling in her grave over that last thought. No son of hers would be even briefly forgetting something as pedestrian as the chemical composition of rubbing alcohol by smell.

"Z, I didn't-"

"It was the knife. On the ground. I don't know how it got there but it was, right behind your foot and when Four showed up-"

"Shit, he didn't see-"

"No, no! I mean, he came to the door but I kept him out."

"Thank fucking god for that." He said, his hand reflexively going to the strange itch at his temple. He hissed when it got there.

"Your head-"

"What..?" he was staring at red dipped fingers

"When you fell, I guess you hit your head and you were out cold for like half an hour. I was trying to clean it when-"

"Yeah, what in the hell were you using by the way? A damn cactus? Maybe some steel wool dipped in stomach acid?" He bit it out to distract himself from the distinctly unmanly thoughts of rolling to the floor and vomiting furiously.

"You giant fucking asshole! Pardon me for giving a damn that you not die in this dank ass storeroom!" She threw the bloody cloth at him and stood up, officially done with his shit for the night. So what if she was immediately going to bring herself to screaming orgasm out of relief and memory of his stupid lips. He could get his own concussed ass to the infirmary.

In hindsight, immediately standing to stop her had been a horrendous mistake. He only got out a strangled "Z, wait-" before he was making a distressing amount of noise on his way back to the floor again. Damn fucking gravity.

When he came to, it was because of pain again, but this time it felt like maybe someone had decided his arm might work better someplace that wasn't attached to his shoulder.

"Damn it Z, you could wait until I'm actually dead before trying to hide my body with dismemberment." he groaned back to life realizing he was standing instead of spilled on the floor like he last remembered. He must have forgotten to mark "Fuck With Eric's Head Day" on his calendar.

"Oh my god, you're actually alive." Zenia sobbed. Holy shit, why is she crying?

"Z, why-"

"Just try and move your feet a little, we're almost to the infirmary, just stay with me." It was then that he realized there was a prodigious amount of blood dripping off his face and on to his shirt and her shoulder under his arm and just about everything in a five foot radius. Oh, the tears made a little more sense now. And the stars, too. All the spinning stars…

"No no! Damn it! The door's right there-"

_Too late_, he thought disturbingly peacefully, as he slipped out and down again. Or up. He wasn't in the mood to guess where he'd end up this time.

She was absently biting her nails nervously watching him on the gurney. She could see why he hated this place. He didn't belong in a sterile, cold place like this anyway. Dauntless was fortunate to have the best medical equipment Erudite could spare. You didn't want your soldiers dying left and right like those useless pre-war saps, now did you? But shit, if there was ever a man whose entire countenance protested and contrasted this icy laboratory, it was Eric.

And it was even worse seeing him all lifeless again. In the storeroom it had been almost cute because it was still more hilarious that serious, but holy fuck, that second fall had scared the shit out of her. The doctors had said he'd only broken his nose and opened up the cut on his temple a little more, but the amount of blood pouring down his face had made it look like he'd bashed his skull in completely this time. Head wounds, man.

He was still out three hours later. The effects of the injury, a powerful pain-killer, and some super serum that was supposed to heal up everything in an eighth of the time. She'd been away from Erudite so long, she'd forgotten how staggering the advances were that they made every day. Scary almost, once you looked at it from the outside.

He was going to be pissed. That was super obvious, but she couldn't really bring herself to care right now. There were too many huge feelings hanging around to deal with. She was feeling pretty dizzy herself over all of it. Maybe she should see if Erudite had cranked out a simplify-your-life serum yet. Obliterating amounts of alcohol seemed like an attractive alternative at the moment to be honest.

He groaned awake for the third time today, and she had no idea where the irrational giggle came from, but she didn't have the energy to stop it anyway.

"Shit, I'm really not a fan of today." He said groggily, trying to stand up.

"Well, it's only been today for like 15 minutes, sooo… I'm guessing you mean yesterday sucked as well?" She snarked, trying to get the sarcasm back into their officially weird relationship.

He just sent her a glare and tried to sit up, slowly this time. He was wiser now about the bitchy gravity situation.

Once the doctor cleared him to go, he was halfway down the hall to his apartment before he noticed Zenia was following him.

"Can I help you?" He said, giving her an odd glance.

"There's no chance in hell I'm letting you hobble all the way across Dauntless to die on some uneven bit of the floor again."

"You were in the room for the part where the doctor completely cleared me to leave ON MY OWN because of that wonder potion they shot me up with, right?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"Go home, Z. Training, bright and early." He said with acidic cheeriness. He turned and started walking down the hallway again.

The wall was suddenly surprisingly hard on his back.

"Listen here, shit for brains, I thought I'd fucking killed you three hours ago and if you think for one millisecond you're getting away with not explaining what happened thirty seconds before your suicide marathon, you've got another thing coming." She rushed out lowly, looking straight into his distracting eyes and poking his solid chest. He was breathing hard but not panting. Deep heaving breaths and looking her dead in the eyes.

"I really want to kiss you right now." She admitted breathing just as heavily.

"If I let you do that, we'll never make it to my place." He said honestly. His eyes drifted longingly to her lips. Maybe the brain damage wasn't all fixed.

"You are right. Move it, big boy." Z huffed, grabbing his arm and setting an impressive pace.

"How do you know the way?" he asked suddenly very worried of her answer.

She laughed a little guiltily.

"Well you remember that one time, with the door lock-"

"I fucking knew that was you! I kept telling Max to send your ass straight to wall duty for that shit, but noooo! 'How could Zenia have access to a re-key requisition?' he said. 'That's too elaborate for even your little spats' he said. I had to sleep on a damn table for a week for that!"

"Hey! How was that even a microgram worse than your lackey Hal tattooing some choice words on my forearm, huh? I still get funny looks over why there's a random, awkward, giant fucking tree covering everything from my wrist to my elbow!"

He huffed and muttered, "You're still gonna pay for it."

"I certainly hope so." She muttered, smirking royally and regaining their rapid pace.

Damn, this was going to be fun.

Annnnnd, cut! Look at that mother! I know, not the most thrilling material in the world, but I suffer from the need for some plot with my porn. The next chapter though…


End file.
